


Fishnets

by AlltheB7



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward Dates, F/F, Hair care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25825885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlltheB7/pseuds/AlltheB7
Summary: Hermione comes home from a failed date.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56





	Fishnets

Hermione jangled the keys until the count of five, in order to give Pansy time to scamper or accio pants. Last time she came back without notice, she walked in on the woman watching internet porn and going to town at the kitchen table in her dressing gown like some incel. 

As uncouth as it was, at least Pansy was confident in her sexuality.

This time Pansy was on the couch watching Hell's Kitchen because _He's got to be a squib, I can tell_ ; and _It's funny that he hasn't been hexed yet_. 

"Did he at least pay for your dinner?" she drawled at Ramsey's red-faced screeching. 

Pansy took her reparations a little too far when she requested rehabilitating with Hermione in a muggle flat. To this day, it remained a mystery to Hermione why the woman demanded Hermione share her flat, despite Pansy's vague "It makes sense, Granger." It didn't make sense. 

"No, she didn't." Hermione sighed. Another date with a woman (who was a friend of a coworker) who seemed coherent and sensible, but really had no idea how to talk. Hermione sat through a nearly silent meal because she couldn't bring herself to be rude and walk away before at least conversing more than an initial "Hello, how are you?" They split Dutch before Hermione began saying goodbye, at which time the wizard blurted "You're amazing! You and Ginny Weasley are my heroes! " 

It was embarrassing for both of them and so Hermione thanked _Kat_ and bid her goodnight, begging leave in order to "read up some." The woman's round eyes all but crumpled, her smile twitching sadly across her pasty skin before sticking in place. 

Not her best, but also, not her worst date. At least Kat didn't bring a binder of news clippings. 

Sometimes it took more work being single than anything else. 

"Well, did she at least have the decency to appreciate you wore shoes that are impractical?" Hermione occasionally wore high heels, and each time Pansy scoffed at them, telling Hermione that she looked silly. 

"What is your vendetta against high heels," holding the frame, Hermione kicked off a shoe and then nudged the other off before picking them up and taking them back to her room. 

"They don't make sense on women," the reply followed her down the hall. Considering their history, Pansy's immediate response actually made sense in the odd way she sometimes seemed to make heads or tails of muggle customs. 

"Don't try fishnets," Hermione muttered to herself with a voiceless laugh as she envisioned Voldemort in fishnets and heels. 

Could work, she had to admit. 

"Muggles wear fishnets? Why? How?" of course Pansy was listening to her. Hermione had to cast silencing charms for phone calls, floo chats, and shower times, the woman couldn't conjure a shred of privacy if she were told to shut the door. There were moments Pansy shouted her opinion on Hermione's muttered morning dress routine from her own bathroom, and honestly, it was frustrating and disturbing how much Pansy knew about her wardrobe. 

"Why indeed," she muttered. Unclipping her bra, the witch slid out of all of her clothes, pulled up a pair of boxers and yanked a tee over her head. Making her way back to the kitchen, she poured herself a cup, grabbed a book off the counter, and stood at the arm of the couch, watching the puce-faced man yell at people. 

He did look a bit like Filch if she squinted and imagined grey hair. Maybe distant cousins? 

"You didn't condition your hair last night," Pansy accused. "Sit." 

Groaning, Hermione rolled her eyes. For some Morgana forsaken reason, Pansy had taken up a crusade to "make a decent hair out of you" after Hermione mentioned going out on a date a month ago and hadn't deigned to braid her hair back. 

They had already been living together for nearly a half year, it wasn't like they were _friends_ friends. Just... Two professional witches, recently divorced with no children and intense reading habits. It wasn't like Pansy had always expressed interest in her hair. 

"What is it with you and my hair?" she said the words even as she lowered to the floor in between of Pansy's legs. She was not afraid to admit that Pansy gave good head scritches while massaging in her potions, but she was beginning to feel unsure about how she felt about it. 

"It's not like I'm going to keep up with this stuff after someone not crazy decides they're interested in dating." 

A muttered accio command, an unscrewed top, and Pansy's strong fingers worked the thick braid apart from bottom to top. Sometimes Hermione wore her hair in braids in the hope Pansy would undo them. 

"You have amazing hair," Pansy murmured in a huff, "but you clearly don't listen to what I've been saying about conditioning and pretreating." 

A commercial popped on and Hermione closed her eyes as the tap of a wand on her head signaled the braid was completely untied. Next Pansy would rub her fingers through her hair from scalp to tip. Wait--

"You never say anything nice about my hair," Hermione pointed out and felt the shrug through the movement of Pansy's knees. 

"You're terrible at following direction." 

"You're rude." 

"You nitpick." 

"You're afraid to admit you like me." 

"Not afraid, unsure of your reaction."

The culmination of quiet nights following failed dates and long work days gained momentum and swung into a heavy silence. 

Pansy didn't stop massaging the mixture into her hair, so Hermione didn't move, remaining still, turning over the many nights spent reading quietly, arguing over the thermostat (Pansy thought they should just cast warming spells), and glaring at each other after insensitive barbs were thrown. 

"Look," Pansy was nearly done threading the potion through her hair. The woman took a deep breath and continued, "It's easy to be nice to you. I thought it would be difficult, but you're aggravatingly reasonable."

At some point Pansy obtained a comb because she was now combing her hair gently and dividing it into falls for a couple braids. 

"Yeah, well," Hermione tried, "You're... Unusually considerate about not tossing while nude anymore." 

"You're shit at compliments, Granger." 

Hermione snorted through her nose, thinking of all the insults Pansy qualified as "not insults."

A moment passed, Pansy's fingers deftly sliding through the falls, beginning a braid. From behind her a huff and then, "I wouldn't have to be considerate if you had just plucked up a backbone."

The idea of it stiffened Hermione's shoulders. Pansy. Nude. Wandering hands and long-held gazes. 

How would that even work?

A tap of the wand at the top of her head and the smoothing charm to keep her hair from knotting in bed tingled over her scalp and down the plait. Hermione swallowed hard and kept her gaze locked into the screen. 

Then a thought. "You would rather be caught wanking than tell me you wanted to have sex with me?" 


End file.
